"I'm unhappy about all the lost ones."

"Yes, but this one is hurting you more than usual. I can feel your pain. Why?"

"I don't know." She thought about it. "Maybe it's not Marty." She wearily shook her head. "It could be that I've done this too long. These days every one of those skulls they bring me makes me flinch. Maybe it's all the lost ones, all the terrible brutality in the world. Children should be safe and loved. We should find a way to keep the monsters away from them. But we haven't and it goes on and on."

"And you go on and on. That's pretty wonderful, Mama."

"It doesn't bring you back to me. I want to bring you home, Bonnie."

"I'm home whenever I'm with you. It will come."

Love flowed through Eve in a warm tide. Jesus, she mustn't cry. Change the subject. "You said the reason you came was partly Montalvo. What part?"

"The fear. It's all around you."

"I told you I wasn't afraid of him."

"Because you don't know him. He's not what you think. He's not what anyone thinks. The fear will come." She sat up straight in the chair. "I have to go. Joe's finished with his call. He couldn't reach Soldono. He's going to come back to bed."

"Why leave?" she asked with sly mockery. "Why not stick around to say hello?"

"You're kidding me. You don't want me to do that. You've never shared me with Joe. I don't know why."

Neither did Eve. Trust? That couldn't be the reason. She'd trust Joe with her life. They were closer than any couple she knew. Yet she'd never told him about the dreams of Bonnie.

"Not dreams," Bonnie said softly. "Not dreams, Mama. Close your eyes. I'm going now."

"And you don't want me to see you vanish like something in a Star Trek transporter?" She closed her eyes. "You used to like those Star Trek reruns. Do you remember how you-"

Aching emptiness. Sadness.

She opened her eyes. No Bonnie. The rocking chair was vacant. Tears stung her eyes. Stupid. Weeping because Bonnie had drifted away from her again.

Beloved dream. Beloved spirit. Beloved Bonnie.

She could hear Joe's quiet steps coming down the hall.

She instinctively shut her eyes again. She didn't want to have Joe know that she was crying. She couldn't bear to make explanations right now. Better to pretend to be asleep.

He slipped into bed and drew close to her. He whispered, "Eve?"

She didn't answer.

He hesitated and then lay back against his pillow.

She felt as if she'd betrayed him. There shouldn't be pretense between them. Why couldn't she lower the barriers and confide in him? He was so good to her. Even if he didn't understand he'd never condemn her.

She couldn't do it. Lately it was as if there was a growing distance between them. Sometimes the closeness was there, sometimes she had to work to keep it firm, keep the substance of their love in focus.

Like Bonnie, drifting back and forth into her life like a puff of smoke.

Like Bonnie…

She was asleep. Eve hadn't been asleep when he'd come to bed but she was sleeping now.

Joe stared into the darkness. He wanted to touch her, wake her, make love to her. He needed to do it.

Christ, how insecure could he get? Sex should be pleasure, not a frantic effort to bring her back to him. They were so fantastic together physically that it was always a temptation to use it when he was frustrated in any other aspect of their relationship.

And he'd use it again if he had to do it. He'd use anything he had or could dredge up from heaven or hell. She'd been the center of his universe for years and he didn't know if he could survive without her.

He wouldn't have to do that. All he had to do was get past this remoteness he'd sensed in her during the last months. He'd blamed it on weariness. She always worked herself into exhaustion if he didn't watch out for her. Then he'd blamed it on the fact that Jane was grown and on her own. It might have been a period of adjustment. It might be that…

He was losing her.

No! He instantly rejected the thought. He would not lose her.

And he wouldn't let her be killed by Montalvo or be drawn into the machinations of Soldono.

Why the devil hadn't Soldono answered his voice mail?

In the morning he'd try again and then get on the phone and contact a few people he knew in the CIA in Washington.

He turned over and looked at Eve.

Lord, she was beautiful. She always told him he was crazy and that she wasn't even pretty. Her features were more interesting than attractive. Her red-brown hair was clean and shiny but she always kept it short and simply coiffed. When she worked, she wore horn-rimmed glasses.

But there was a world of intelligence and strength in those brown eyes and her lips were beautifully formed and sensitive. He loved to watch her expressions and try to bring a smile to those lips. Hell, he loved to watch her, period.

He started to reach out to touch her.

He stopped. No, this wasn't the time to be impulsive. She was very delicately balanced right now.

And their relationship was even more fragilely balanced. She'd probably deny it, but he sometimes believed he knew her better than she knew herself. He'd studied her, agonized with her, watched her with pride as she slowly healed and grew to be the woman she was.

No, he'd be patient, he'd watch and wait.

They had to get past this business with that bastard Mon-talvo before he could concentrate on clearing away any obstacles between them.

Sleep. Don't touch her. Don't reach out and grab because you're beginning to feel desperate…

Joe was on the phone when Eve walked out on the porch after nine the next morning. He looked at her as he hung up. "No answer from Soldono."

"What the devil is going on? Do you suppose something's happened to him?"

"Do you mean do I think Montalvo got pissed off at him and killed him?" Joe shrugged. "We'll find out. I'm going to make some calls. I'll see if Venable in the CIA can track him down."

Venable. She vaguely remembered the name. "Will he talk to us about CIA business?"

Joe's lips tightened. "Oh, yes, he'll talk to me. Go get yourself some breakfast. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"I just want some orange juice." She turned toward the door. "I have to get back to work on Marty. I should have worked last night instead of fretting over something I couldn't help."

"You're allowed to be distracted occasionally."

"No, I'm not. Not when I have a job to do." She moved toward the easel where Marty waited.

Concentrate. Think about the boy who was lost. Forget everything else. Her fingers moved searchingly, delicately molding the clay over the cheekbones. It was the last stage of the reconstruction and the most definitive one.

Let her hands work without thought.

Smooth.

Mold.

Smooth.

Help me, Marty…

It took Joe almost an hour to get hold of Venable, and when the agent came on the line, his tone was reserved and unencouraging.

"I can't talk about Soldono, Quinn. He's an agent on assignment. You were FBI at one time and you know that it puts our man at risk to discuss that assignment."

"We didn't go to Soldono. He came to us. Now tell me what's happening."

"Same answer."

"Venable." Joe's words spat out hard and fast with bullet velocity. "I don't know what this is all about, but your man screwed up handling Montalvo. I don't like having Eve put on the spot to correct that screwup. I don't like it so much that if Soldono is still alive and kicking, I'm tempted to go down there and strangle the bastard. But Eve isn't like me. She's going to worry until she knows that Soldono is okay and that he reached Montalvo in time to stop him from executing a man. So you tell me what's happening, dammit."